


A Matter of Duty

by wendywhite13



Series: Imperial Physician [3]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games), Dishonored 2 - Fandom
Genre: Addermire Institute, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dunwall, F/F, Imperial Physician, Low Chaos (Dishonored), Low Chaos Emily Kaldwin, NSFW, Post-Low Chaos Ending, Serkonos, alexi's still dead, emily kaldwin is happy for once, so is hypatia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendywhite13/pseuds/wendywhite13
Summary: Emily works to restore Dunwall in the wake of Delilah's attack, but struggles to get her happiness back while mourning Alexi.  Meanwhile, Hypatia regrets her decision to leave and pines for the beautiful girl who saved her life. Low-chaos, happy ending, very gay, all the ingredients for a good day. First chapter is SFW, second is NSFW.





	1. Priorities

There was never enough time.  
That thought moved through Emily’s head on repeat as she kneeled on the plank floor of the Dreadful Wale, staring at Hypatia’s empty cot. She was gone.  
The night before, Emily had returned from the conservatory spent and bruised. She had thought about saying goodnight to the doctor, but, it was late and she could spend time with her in the morning. She’d have time. But Hypatia had left that morning, while Emily slept, leaving only an audiograph in her place. Emily had listened to that audiograph, over and over, while Sokolov waited impatiently in the next room. Was that a tremor in Hypatia’s voice, when she said she had to leave, or was that Emily’s willing imagination? Did Hypatia miss her? Would she come back?  
Would they have any more time?  
Emily never expected to be in this position. She had enough to worry about without falling for one of her assassination targets. But the doctor, the lonely troubled woman hiding in the secret lab in Addermire, had changed her. Hypatia’s kindness and grace had shaken Emily, and her terrifying alter ego had almost killed her. But Emily had saved her, brought her back to the Wale, and in the days afterward, had spent more and more time with her. At first, it was Emily comforting Hypatia. The doctor who had spent her life saving and attending to others had, under the influence of her psychotropic serum, inflicted horrible pain and cruelty. She was sick with grief and self-hatred. Emily calmed her, talked her down from the edge, held her when words alone weren’t enough. It was almost helpful to Emily, having a distraction from her own pain. Having someone to hold and comfort again.  
And as Hypatia’s mood improved, she began to talk more positively. About things that she had done as a doctor, not as Grim Alex. The patients she had served, her ceaseless work improving the Addermire Solution. Emily had listened, enraptured. Emily had been born with a job, a duty. But she had never enjoyed being Empress. It was a responsibility she had never asked for, a burden she would shake at any opportunity. But Hypatia? She was brilliant, she could have had any cushy job she wanted. And she’d chosen to serve the people. Hypatia had a lilt in her voice and a light in her eyes when she spoke of her patients, the communities she worked in. Her tone was soft, but passionate, and her fervor and dedication showed clearly in her face. Emily couldn’t help but sit and stare as the doctor talked, marveling at the light reflecting in her glassy green eyes, watching her full lips move to the words. Falling a little bit in love with every aspect of the woman.  
It was an unnecessary complication to an already complicated situation. But maybe it was what Emily needed. She found more excuses to spend time in Hypatia’s cabin between missions. After rescuing Sokolov, Emily had at first been annoyed to find that she would have to wait for information from him. But it meant more time with the doctor. They talked late into the night, played card games in Emily’s quarters. One day, Emily had even taken Hypatia out on the skiff to a rocky outcropping near the boat for a picnic, saying that she just needed some time off the ship to calm her nerves. Megan had given her a strange look when she’d asked for the skiff, and she stood watching them from the top deck as Emily and Hypatia had set out. But Hypatia didn’t seem to mind, and they’d sat so close, that night, watching the sun set over the bay as the smell of hydrangeas filled the air. And Emily had thought that maybe, just maybe, Hypatia loved her too.  
But she hadn’t said anything. Not that night, or those after. She was in the middle of a coup, after all, and Alexi...Alexi had been so recently. Emily couldn’t muster the courage to say the words yet. But they would have time, Emily thought. She never learned.  
After all, isn’t that what she had always said about Alexi? Sweet, brave Alexi, who had saved her life again and again, only to die on her father’s sword. They had shared many things: a friendship, a secret, kisses, even a bed. But not once in all those years had Emily ever told Alexi what she really meant to her. She couldn’t, could she? Someday, Emily knew, she would have to marry a male noble and produce an heir for the kingdom. It was her duty as ruler, and the expectation of her people. She couldn’t marry a guard with common blood, not like her mother had, but she especially couldn’t wed a woman. Even beyond the succession issues, the Abbey of the Everyman would call for her head.  
So she loved Alexi, but in secret, never saying the words aloud. Someday, she thought, she would have an heir, things would be more settled in the kingdom, the pressure would be off her. Maybe then. She would have time to tell Alexi how she felt.  
And then Alexi lay in a pool of her own blood on Emily’s bedroom floor, her last words an apology for failing her Empress. And the future Emily had planned was dead, too, but she didn’t have any time to think about it. She ran for her life, heart full of regret, leaving her lover’s body cold on the ground.  
Now, here she was again, staring at the empty place where her dreams used to be. But it was even more difficult to understand. She thought that Hypatia had cared about her too. Had that been Emily’s imagination? Had the doctor been scared off by the prospect of another woman in love with her? Had the thought that Emily was in love with her not even crossed her mind? Or worse, had kind, caring Hypatia noticed her affections and merely pretended to play along, so as not to hurt her? Leaving the second it got too intense and uncomfortable to keep the act up? At that thought, Emily thought her heart would crack in two.  
But eventually, Emily stood up, turning off the lights in Hypatia’s empty cabin. Megan was somewhere in enemy territory, waiting for her, and Sokolov was sighing loudly and tapping his foot in the next room, anxious to be on the way to the Dust District. And somewhere, back in Dunwall, Delilah, the woman who had stolen Emily’s throne, caused Alexi’s death, and turned Hypatia into a monster still ruled. Emily knew she had a duty to defeat her. And that would have to take priority over her broken heart.

 

  
Five Weeks Later  
It had been a long time coming, but Hypatia was finally ready to admit that Karnaca was no longer her home. Everything had seemed so positive at first. The rightful empress was back on the throne and emergency aid was pouring in from the other islands. The duke had been replaced, secretly, by a smarter and more compassionate doppelganger, who had shut down the mines and the Grand Guard.  
The new duke had called Hypatia, along with Aramis Stilton, Lucia Pastor, and others who had worked to protect the people of Karnace, to the ducal palace. They were to serve as his new advisors, to rebuild the city in a way that was fair and equitable. But Hypatia felt deeply uncomfortable in the palace. She had never been there, not as a doctor, anyway. But it was familiar to her, and she realized that Grim Alex had once walked these halls too.  
As for the new duke, he was a good and kind man. Anyone who spent five minutes with him could tell he was very different than Luca. But his voice, his voice was the same as the one that had once played on the audiograph in the lab in Addermire. The same voice that had told her who would live and who would die, the same voice that had sent her into a deep, fitful sleep while her “other half” ran wild. Upon meeting the duke, Hypatia’s knees went weak and sweat began to pour down her bloodless face. Ever the gentleman, Aramis Stilton had gently carried her outside, and she had muttered half-assed excuses and apologies while struggling to catch her breath. She knew she couldn’t work with this new duke, no matter how good a man he was.  
She had the same problem upon returing to Addermire. Hypatia had gotten about a mile out by boat before the sight of the hospital, looming in the distance, made the breath catch in her throat. She had tearfully begged the ship captain to turn around. Her apartment, across the street from Addermire station, offered her no solace either, and Hypatia began to fear that she would never have a place to call home again.  
In the end, the answer, at least temporarily, came in the form of Aramis Stilton. He had set up a triage center in his mansion for victims of bloodfly fever and silver inhalation, and was looking for doctors to staff it. And of course, whatever else Hypatia was, she was still the preeminent expert in bloodfly and mine-related illnesses. So Hypatia had taken up residence in his guest suite, tending to patients on cots in the main hall. And that had worked, for a time. She had worked feverishly, from dawn til dusk, leaving herself no time to think about the past, about her memories. At the end of the day, she would stumble back to her bed, too exhausted to dream.  
Ironically, the thing that began to unravel her life at Stilton’s was the very thing she had wanted for so long: peace. Soldiers from Morely, there on the Empress’s orders, were burning their way through the city, tearing down bloodfly nests and burning infected corpses. Doctors from Gristol, some of her old schoolmates from the Academy of Natural Philosophy, came to treat the wounded at Stilton’s makeshift hospital. Some of them passed around talk of re-opening Addermire, casting strange looks at her when they did so. Wondering why she hadn’t already done it.  
With the dwindling patient numbers, Hypatia could no longer work herself into a stupor. Free time was her enemy, because it gave her time to remember, to think. But the night was worse. Most nights, her dreams were incomprehensible and bloody, filled with screams and accusatory faces. From these, Hypatia would wake in a cold sweat, sobbing with remorse for crimes she didn’t commit. And then…there were the other dreams.  
Dreams of warm, strong arms holding her. Of the sunset glinting in raven black hair, a flash of gold, a woman’s bright laugh. Of a picnic overlooking the sea, the kiss she had wanted so badly to take that day. Her hands on a woman’s brown skin. Hypatia woke from these dreams filled with a strange, empty longing, panting and gasping for air, her skin strangely...hot.  
Hypatia had felt like this only once before, years ago, after she had taken Vasco on as her assistant. She had respected him as a fellow alchemist, and admired his work ethic, but over time, it had become more than that. They had both danced around the obvious for a few weeks, but in the end, Hypatia had brought him to her bed. And things were very good, for a while. But their work was suffering. They spent all their time together, ignoring their duties as the heads of Addermire. And with conditions in the Dust District getting worse every day, and more and more bloodfly nests forming in the city, that was simply irresponsible. No, they were two of the only doctors left in a struggling city, and their patients were suffering for their inattention.Hypatia broke it off, and Vasco had understood. It was amicable. They stayed friends, but without the distraction.  
And what Hypatia had felt, that sunset day Emily had taken her out on a picnic, was nothing but distraction. Hypatia wanted to reach out and touch her, take her into her arms, and never let her go. But that...wouldn’t work, would it? Emily was empress, or would be again soon. She would return to Gristol. She would marry and bear an heir to ensure the stability of the Empire. And Hypatia...was needed elsewhere, wasn’t she? With Vasco’s death at Alex’s hands, Hypatia was now the only qualified doctor left in the city. She had patients to see, and there were so many problems she could help with. She had a duty.  
She made up her mind the night Emily went to the conservatory. Emily hadn’t wanted to go, hadn’t been keeping up her physical training. She’d been spending time with Hypatia instead, neglecting her responsibilities. So Hypatia had packed her things quickly, leaving without saying a word to the empress. Despite her resolve, she knew there was no was she could look into Emily’s eyes while she said she was leaving. It was cowardly, and cruel, but there was no other way.  
But now, weeks later, Hypatia lay in her bed and wondered if it had all been worth it. She had done good work, certainly, in the weeks after the coup. But the city of Karnaca no longer teetered on the edge. Soon, the few patients who remained at Stilton’s makeshift hospital would be moved to Addermire with the new doctors, where she couldn’t follow. She couldn’t stay at Stilton’s forever, but she couldn’t go back home. Vasco, her closest friend, was dead, as was much of Addermire’s old staff. Hypatia had lived in the city of Karnaca for most of her life, but now she felt like an outsider, transient and unsupported. Unneeded.  
She sighed and turned back over in her bed, falling once more into strange dreams of sunsets, gold, and blood.

 

Two weeks later  
Emily sighed, trying to force herself to read the words on the page. It was a tedious report on the reconstruction work of Kaldwin’s Bridge. The report itself was four pages long, and underneath it sat a stack of other papers. Requests, intelligence, missing persons reports. The detritus left behind by Delilah’s bloody coup.  
She hated this kind of desk work, and before the coup she had always tried her best to dodge it, giving it to her advisors to handle instead. But it was thing laisez-faire attitude towards her imperial duties that had allowed the rebellion to foment in the first place, that had caused so much suffering for the people of her empire. Emily wasn’t going to make that mistake ever again. She was determined to serve her people,though lately, her determination was being sorely tested.  
Since eliminating Delilah, life had been one long slog of work for Emily, though. Trials had to be overseen, punishing Delilah’s collaborators for their crimes. Rescue operations had to be planned. The queen of Morley and the High Council of Tyvia had to be contacted, reassured, brought back to the fold. On top of that, construction crews worked day and night, trying to fix the damage Delilah had done to the city of Dunwall and the imperial palace. Though she knew they did good work, the constant hammering left Emily with a headache.  
Emily had tried to keep the repairs to the palace minimal. The city itself had a greater need, and the further the construction work was from her the better she felt. The only real necessity had been repairing the safe room. It wasn’t much of a secret anymore, but it could still operate as a bunker. Emily had taken to sleeping in it every night, as she had done in the years after the Rat Plague. She told herself it wasn’t out of fear, just a precaution, but she knew that wasn’t true.  
The safe room looked much nicer than the rest of the palace now, though. The crews had come through and cleaned the remains of Delilah’s magical trees with fire bombs and swords, and rebuilt the sliding doors stronger and thicker. Even Sokolov’s locks had been replaced. Two weeks after Emily had taken back the throne, a crate had arrived from the northernmost point in Tyvia, some void-forsaken arctic hellholde. Inside had been two paintings, the ones Sokolov had been working on aboard the Dreadful Wale: one of Delilah, one of Emily herself. Emily hadn’t really known what to do with them at the time (she still didn’t) so the two masterpieces sat in a corner of the safe room, facing the wall. Under the paintings sat two replacement locks for the doors, the special ones that could only be opened by Emily and Corvo’s signet rings. And then...something else, something Emily didn’t understand. A third signet ring, too small for her hand and much too small for Corvo’s, sat in the bottom of the box. Attached was a note: for house calls. Emily had puzzled at that, before eventually deciding that Sokolov had just put some inscrutable riddle in the box so that he could be a smartass one last time. It wasn’t exactly out of character for her old mentor, and she had more important things to worry about.  
Like the reconstruction report on Kaldwin’s Bridge. She was on the third page, a dry diatribe about support columns, when she heard a knock at the door. Corvo walked in, looking as tired as she felt. Like Emily, her father had been working tirelessly since the coup, trying to ferret out the remaining traitors and rebuild the Watch. Looking at the deep purple circles beneath his eyes, Emily knew that Corvo blamed himself for the the coup. Maybe he had a right to, just as she did. HIs eyes had been just as blind to Delilah’s machinations as hers. Still, she wished he would stop punishing himself and rest. Just as he continually reminded her that the extraordinary work schedule she had set for herself was too much. Like father, like daughter, thought Emily.  
Today, however, there was a funny little smile on his lips.  
“You have a visitor in the great hall,” he said softly, looking strangely amused.  
“Ugh, you’ll have to send them away, I’m sorry. I’ve gotta finish these tonight,” Emily gestured to the pile of papers cluttering the table.  
Corvo laughed. “She said you’d be too busy to see her. She apologized three times for bothering me. Interesting woman, that Alexandria Hypatia.”  
Emily jolted upward so fast her knees hit the bottom of the table. The Padilla Pear Soda she’d been drinking tipped over, spilling green liquid all over the report on Kaldwin’s Bridge.  
“I’ll handle it, I’ll handle it,” said Corvo, as the suddenly flustered empress tried to clean up the mess with her scarf. “Why don’t you go talk to her. I think it would be good for you.” Emily stammered out a thank you and bolted for the door.  
In the throne room, she tried to compose herself. She sat bolt upright on her silver throne, trying to muster an imperious look. No, that was all wrong. How should she sit? Should she be casual? Should she stand? Should she try to look seductive? Emily blushed scarlet at the thought. In the end, she settled for what she hoped was a confident was welcoming look, her muscles tensed tightly in an effort to look laidback on the throne. Trying to keep her voice level, she called for her guards to allow the visitor in.  
Despite trying to keep a cool face, Emily couldn’t suppress a little gasp when she saw Hypatia. In the time since the doctor had left, Emily had tried to keep her from her thoughts. She’d forgotten how beautiful she’d found the older woman. Hypatia had changed little. Her face was still pale and drawn, with the constantly worried expression that she always seemed to wear. She was still wearing her trademark gray overalls, though now she wore a long blue coat over it. It seemed the Dunwall chill did not suit her. To Emily’s tired eyes, she looked nearly angelic.  
They stared at each other for a moment in awkward silence. Emily was the first to break it, though her voice came out much quieter and higher than she had intended.  
“Dr. Hypatia, you honor us with your presence. It warms my heart to see you again. Um… what is the cause for this...unexpected visit?”  
At this, Hypatia looked down at her shoes, as though she was addressing the cracked tile below her. “Well, um, it’s...ah….” she stumbled over her words. “Ah...Karnaca! The new hospital has gone up, and, um, you’ve done so much to fix the bloodfly problem, I, um, I don’t have any patients any more! Oh, um, not that that’s a bad thing! Um, but I heard things about Dunwall, um, still having problems with the, um, the coup, and I was wondering if I could offer my...services...as a doctor...um,” Hypatia’s voice trailed off. Oh, void, why had she come? The decision to sail to Dunwall had been an impulsive one, and she had spent every moment of the two-week voyage regretting it. What on earth was she supposed to say? She was making a damn fool of herself and she couldn’t even bring herself to meet Emily’s eyes.  
Emily watched Hypatia, her heart pounding in her chest. There it was, the tremor she had heard in Hypatia’s voice in the audiograph. Emily definitely was not imagining it this time. And why was it there? The doctor was a nervous woman, to be certain, but the one thing she had always been confident in was her abilities. She shouldn’t be tripping over her words now. Unless offering her medical services to Dunwall’s hospitals wasn’t what she had come for at all. Feeling emboldened by this thought, Emily tried to press her luck.  
“That’s very generous of you, doctor and Dunwall appreciates your charity. However, I don’t directly handle the medical relief efforts in the city. You’d be best served applying at the Academy. I can have a railcar called up to take you there immediately. Unless, of course, you have some other reason to be here…?” Emily let her voice trail off.  
Hypatia fidgeted with the straps on her coat. “Well, I, uh, wanted to see you. I mean! We didn’t really get a chance to say goodbye, and uh, I never thanked you properly for saving me. I guess I...missed you…” Hypatia’s face was now a blotchy red, and she could feel embarassed tears forming in the corners of her eyes. This was going horribly.  
,Suddenly, Emily was in front of her, hands on her shoulders. Hypatia hadn’t heard her cross the room or even get up. But she was there, bent down to look the shorter woman in the eye, her presence overwhelming, the heat coming from her body too much even in the Dunwall cold. “I missed you,” Hypatia said again, but the meaning in her words was different this time. She looked up the meet the empress’s gaze, and realized Emily was blushing too,staring so intensely at her that Hypatia could feel her heart skip a beat.  
“I...missed you too,” she said softly, almost in a whisper. “I thought you’d left for good, I thought we wouldn’t have any more time together. That...I would never get the chance to say this. So let me say it now, while you’re here. I don’t know if you feel the same way, I don’t know how we can be together if you do, but I love you.” Her voice was louder, gathering strength. “I love you Hypatia, I need you to know that.”  
“Oh, Emily,” Hypatia gasped out, unable to stop the tears that were welling in her eyes now. “I love you too.”  
And there, in the throne room, the two women forget their duties for just a second, forgot the future, falling deep into a kiss that warmed them both.


	2. House Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily and Hypatia share some time apart from their responsibilities and fears, and make a decision about the future. NSFW

It was Emily who broke off the kiss first, keenly aware that they were standing in the imperial throne room with guards outside. Hypatia looked taken aback, but Emily grabbed her by the hand. “Come on, come on,” she said. Her voice was lighter, she realized, than it had been in months. Since before Alexi’s death. Emily felt almost giddy. She led Hypatia into the royal apartments, trying to sneak quietly past her study. But the room was empty, the pear soda cleaned up. Corvo appeared to have quietly left, and Emily said a little prayer of thanks for her father’s perception. She led Hypatia to her bedroom (smiling a bit at Hypatia’s little gasp) and inserted her signet ring into the lock on the safe room. Hypatia could have a key of her own, actually, thought Emily--and Emily looked at the doctor behind her and the words house calls popped into her mind. Damn that Sokolov. Of course he knew. Emily could picture the self-satisfied smirk on the old man’s face as he placed the ring inside the crate.  
“This is your safe room right,” Hypatia stammered. “I-it’s nice, really nice.” She cast an eye over the paintings turned to the wall, the stacks of weapons on the shelves, and finally on the bed in the corner. Emily led her to it and sat down heavily. Hypatia sat daintily on the edge. She started to speak, but Emily cut her off.  
“Listen, there’s...something I want you to know. Before I met you…” she paused nervously, then continued. “Before I met you, there was a woman I loved. Her name...was Alexi. And she died, in the coup.”  
“I’m so sorry-” began Hypatia. Emily shook her head.  
“I did wrong by her. I loved her but...I didn’t acknowledge it. I was too afraid of what people would say, that I was wrong, that I was going against nature or my duty or whatever. But she died, and all I could think about was that none of that mattered. I should have acknowledged her. I should at least of told her what she meant to me. That was my duty too, and I failed. She loved me and I let her down. But I won’t do that again.”  
Hypatia looked at her with large eyes. “I...understand that. I made a similar choice once. But...I want something else now. I want you.”  
Emily looked at her quizzically. “Similar choice?”  
“Ah, well, I...had an affair with my assistant Vasco, but I broke it off some years ago.”  
“Oh! I thought-um-you’re still...you still like women too right?” said Emily nervously. She wasn’t sure how to frame the question.  
“Um, yes, I--well, I never gave it a lot of thought until…” Hypatia flushed again. “Until I met you, that is.”  
“Oh, uh, thank you I guess,” Emily could feel a flush in her face as well. To cover her embarrassment, she put on a playful grin and replied, “So you’ve never been with a woman, huh? Well, that explains why you’re so nervous.”  
Hypatia gave a little tsk. “I know what I’m doing!”  
“Oh didn’t you just say you were...inexperienced?”  
“I know how to pleasure a woman!” she retorted, looking quite offended. “I’ve been to medical school!”  
“They teach that in medical school?” laughed Emily, as Hypatia sputtered. “Actually, you know what, Sokolov used to teach there so I wouldn’t really be surprised.”  
Hypatia relaxed a little at the joke. “Well, that’s not what I meant. I mean I, I know plenty about female anatomy, and I...well I’m sure I wouldn’t be bad at it, at least.”  
Emily leaned back, not quite certain if what she was about to say was a good idea or not. Deciding just to go with it, she said “Well, now’s your chance to test that. I promise I won’t judge.”  
The sentence hung in the air between them. Then Hypatia reached up take Emily’s face in her hands, leaning up for a kiss. Then she stopped. “You’re not wearing your scarf.”  
Emily looked to the side. “Um...I got it dirty doing...important empress stuff. Very distinguished you shoulda been there.”  
Hypatia chuckled softly at that, then kissed Emily. It was different than the kiss they’d shared in the throne room. That kiss had been filled with sadness, longing, the unspoken loneliness and stress they both felt. This was more pressing, more passionate. This was about pleasure, not pain. Hypatia’s long fingers moved across Emily’s shoulders, pulling her overcoat off and undoing the clasps on her vest.  
“Why do you wear so many clothes, your majesty,” muttered Hypatia as she struggled with Emily’s belt.  
Emily laughed, pulling apart the clasps on Hypatia’s overalls. “Just another test of your famous skills, doctor.”  
Hypatia tsked again at that, but finally succeeded in getting off Emily’s shirt. Underneath, the empress’s skin was a patchwork of faint scars, some old and healed, others fresher, left over from the coup. Under her many layers of clothes, Emily had bulging muscles. Hypatia ran her fingers along Emily’s arms softly. To Emily, it felt like moths landing gently on her skin.  
Then Hypatia moved her kisses from Emily’s mouth to the curve of her neck, to the tight muscles of her upper arm, and finally to the soft rise of her breasts. Emily gasped slightly as Hypatia worked, the touch of her lips and her fingers so gentle they could barely be felt, but were somehow pleasurable all the same. The doctor pushed Emily back against the pillows, climbing on top of her and straddling her on both sides, still gently kissing and licking her skin. She ran her tongue from the curve of Emily’s breast down the side of a long scar on her stomach, remnants of an old river crust burn. Finally, she came to rest at the point where Emily’s hips reached her pants.  
Emily anxiously bit her lip as Hypatia carefully pulled her pants and underclothes down to her feet, and began to move back up, kissing and touching the inside of her legs. A shiver ran through Emily’s body at each touch, getting more intense the higher Hypatia moved. Finally, Hypatia’s clever fingers found her vulva, gentling moving in to stroke her clitoris, working back and forth as her lips softly brushed against the area. A soft moan escaped Emily’s lips, getting louder as Hypatia worked until Emily gasped with pleasure. She clamped her legs around Hypatia, then gasped once more as she felt an intense release and rush of ecstasy. At that, her body went limp, and she lay gasping as Hypatia lowered herself to lay on Emily’s chest.  
“Not too bad, I see,” whispered Hypatia, quite unable to keep the smug grin off her face.  
Emily looked up at her in amazement. “I promise I will never ever question your doctor credentials again.”  
At that Hypatia giggled and Emily pulled her in closer. Emily ran her hands under the straps of Hypatia’s overalls, lifting her shirt off and stroking the skin beneath. “Why don’t I show you what I can do, too,” she said as she cupped her hands beneath Hypatia’s breasts. She worked her hands down Hypatia’s sides and hips, massaging and kneading, eliciting soft little groans from her lover. Holding her hips with her left hand, Emily slid her right hand under Hypatia’s half-discarded overalls, feeling her start to move more and more as Emily’s two fingers reached between her legs. She stroked back and forth, slowly at first, then faster and faster as Hypatia’s body rocked under her touch. Sliding her hand further in, she gently moved inside Hypatia as the doctor gasped. Emily pressed her body against Hypatia’s, lips against the curve of her exposed breasts, and moved her hand gently until the doctor gave a final moan and relaxed against Emily's body, skin hot and damp with sweat. They lay together, still tangled in each other, breathing hard. Emily looked over at Hypatia, the doctor, the crown killer, and now her lover. The person that, only this morning, she had never expected to see again. The soft glow on her face. The rise and fall of her chest. The love, that was there, plain to see, in her eyes. And Emily knew they had crossed the point of no return, the place she had always feared going with Alexi. She loved Hypatia, and she could never love another, and she couldn’t hide that fact.  
A thousand thoughts swam in her mind. How she would tell people. What she would say to the Abbey. The fight that the news might start. But the soft warmth inside her, and the gentle breathing of the woman beside her, made all that seem to fade away. As she lay with Hypatia, slowly dozing off to the easiest sleep she had had in months, Emily thought that she finally understood. She had a duty, yes, to her kingdom. And that duty was not to bear a new ruler. Her duty to her people was to lead them the best she could, with kindness, fairness, and a wonderful queen beside her. Emily smiled in her sleep that night, and beside her, Hypatia did too.


End file.
